


No Complaints

by Penknife



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bondage, Consent Play, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Safeword Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 23:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penknife/pseuds/Penknife
Summary: It’s easier for Dorian to say “no” and mean “yes” than to say either of those words and mean them.





	No Complaints

Dorian is straddling Bull’s lap riding his cock, his knees hooked around Bull’s broad thighs, his hands tied firmly behind him. In this position, every movement sends another intense shock of pleasure through him, the stretch just this side of pain. Bull hooks the fingers of one hand through the ropes to steady him, which makes it easier for him to roll his hips and strain for more.

Bull strokes Dorian’s cock almost idly with the other hand, his expression all self-satisfaction. “You want this,” he says. 

“I don’t know what gives you that impression,” Dorian says, because that’s the game they’re playing. It’s easier to say “no” and mean “yes” than to say either of those words and mean them. Bull accepts that as long as they have signals to civilize the game, as if watchwords were a guarantee of good behavior.

“Every move you make,” Bull says. “But, sure, tell me how you hate this.”

“All this, and he expects me to talk.”

Bull shrugs. “I like your mouth.”

“I most definitely do not want your hand on me right now,” he says.

“You keep trying to top from the bottom,” Bull says, but he strokes Dorian’s cock again, and Dorian swears under his breath and uses the leverage of Bull’s grip on his bound wrists to thrust with his hips. He’s certain it’s entirely clear in every line of his body that he wants this extremely badly, and intends to keep doing this deliciously filthy thing until he’s satisfied.

“Don’t come yet,” Bull says, and he’s trying, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to comply. He thinks a few more hard strokes or a few good thrusts with any leverage would do it.

“That’s easier said than done,” he says, and if that’s an admission that he very much does want this, at least it’s phrased in the form of a complaint. He rocks his hips forward, straining for more, even though he knows he won’t last long if he gets it.

“Not even going to try to outlast me? I’m disappointed in you,” Bull says, and the words aren’t in Tevene, but they’re a cold splash of water down his back anyway. Abruptly the position is hard to hold, his back cramping, the pleasant ache of being fucked this way now genuine pain. He clenches his jaw and breathes through it, trying to find the knack of relaxing and enduring.

Bull’s hand on him stills. “Hey, talk to me.”

“Haven’t we talked enough?” he says, and grinds himself down hard enough that it should silence the infuriating man.

“_Katoh_,” Bull says, and wraps his hands around Dorian’s thighs to still him. “Enough,” he says when Dorian tries to arch up into his hands anyway, and that time the word is in Tevene, which Dorian wasn’t at all certain Bull spoke.

“If it amuses you to leave us both frustrated.”

“We don’t have to be done for the night. But I want a break.” Bull takes his weight as he eases out of the position, making it possible for him to settle beside Bull on the bed with some modicum of remaining grace. There’s sweat running down the small of his back, and a fluttering cramp down one thigh. Bull tugs lightly at the ropes. “Do you want these off to talk?”

“You’re the one who wants to talk.”

“I think that means you want them on.”

Dorian suspects that untying his wrists right now will feel remarkably like dropping unsupported through empty space, and makes a noncommittal sound.

“I’m not disappointed in you,” Bull says. “Saying that was part of the game.”

“I know that.”

“But you really didn’t like that, and you didn’t say so.”

“Your concern for my well-being is truly touching, but I assure you I was entirely prepared to carry on.”

Bull looks at him like he’s not sure how to communicate across however many languages they’re thinking in. “This is something that I need, for me,” he says eventually. “I need to know you won’t let me hurt you more than you want.” There is actual vulnerability in Bull’s face when he says that, and maybe that’s on purpose, but Dorian still thinks it’s real. “The rules aren’t just for you.”

“I didn’t mean to take offense,” Dorian says, a little stiffly.

“I should have figured that would get to you,” Bull says. “Next time I’ll stick to telling you that, yeah, you can do it. If that works for you.”

“The questions you ask.”

“I’d rather just know everything, but sometimes I have to ask questions.”

“What kind of a spy actually has to interrogate their subjects, I ask you?”

“I don’t actually want to play that game,” Bull says, and then, after a pause in which Dorian has not yet framed some sort of apology, “See how easy that was?”

“What do you want to do?”

Bull’s hand kneads his thigh slowly. “Tell me what you want. Or pretend you’re telling me what you don’t want when you’re actually telling me what you do want, that works for me. But only if you’re actually going to use the watchword.”

“I didn’t, and you still stopped.”

“I could see your face.”

It means something, to think that was enough. It makes it easier to persuade himself to believe that if he spoke the word it might have its intended effect.

“I’ll be good,” he says. “And I want to try that again.”

“Stubborn,” Bull says, but he doesn’t sound displeased.

“So I have been told since the moment of my birth.”

“You don’t mind being told that, though.”

“Not at all,” Dorian says. “I take considerable pride in the fact.”

He can’t get back into that position gracefully with his hands tied without help, but Bull is apparently happy to assist, pulling Dorian up to straddle him and slicking them both liberally with oil. His oiled hand slides up and down Dorian’s cock, which reminds him of what he was doing before they took this undesired detour.

“If I had my hands free, I’d do the same to you, and see how you like it,” Dorian says.

“If you had your hands free, you’d have made me come already,” Bull says. “And then you’d have to wait to get fucked, and you’d complain about waiting.”

“You’re making me wait right now.”

“I like listening to you complain,” Bull says, but he takes Dorian’s thighs in both wide hands and shifts him forward so that Dorian can settle down onto his hard cock. He has to breathe through the stretch, and Bull’s hands tighten warningly on his thighs. He waits a moment longer than he might otherwise have done before he grinds his hips down, closing his eyes at the sensation. Exquisite.

“Then allow me to tell you I’m not enjoying myself at _all_,” he says, and puts sheer hedonistic appreciation into every word. 


End file.
